Summer - break! Err, sorry, got it wrong again

Weak attempts at humour aside, hello again and welcome. Yes, the holidays have arrived, finally. And no, that doesn't mean I don't have a ton of things I really ought to be doing at the minute. What it does mean is that, for right now, I simply can't be bothered to work on any of my projects and shall instead enjoy taking the leisure of a little internet hobnob with you. I hope you've all been keeping well and I've tried to keep up with most people's blogs as best I could. For the non-bloggers among my huge and varied audience (cue dry laughter), I trust you're also well and breathing. Don't forget - heal the world, make it a better place. For you and for me, for the entire human race. Or something... (gotten into Chris Moyles' podcasts quite a bit recently. I guess it's showing)

(this image courtesy of www.search.com)

Seamlessly breaking one of Wendz' Ten Blogging Commandments (for reasons beyond my weak little brain, Blogger never, ever believes my html so I can't, for the life of me, get proper paragraphs. Hence the piccie instead), I'd like to move on and talk about something that's been close to my heart for a while now. No, not my chest hair (that's close, though, too) - the question of why love can be such a complicated and, at times, grievous affair. Maybe you don't know what I mean and think I'm talking rubbish. After all, love is supposed to be easy, to come naturally, to be all fluffy pink clouds (or "fruffy ping crowds", as a dearly beloved friend from Hongkong might put it) and sunshine. You fall in love, your hearts meet and intertwine, you ride off into the sunset and enter that place known to hopeless romantics as "happy ever after". Only that, in my experience (and, I think, in the experience of most long-term lovers and countless parents of children all over the world), it doesn't work quite like that. For reasons that, quite often, even the persons involved can't explain themselves, lovers and people in close-knit relationships tend to hurt each other, to wind each other up and irritate one another on all kinds of levels. Huge blows may be dealt, such as infidelity or breaches of trust, but most often it seems to be smaller things, minor incidents, small niggles, subtleties, that cause aggravation in the long run. Often, there is insecurity involved - affection is not shown adequately because of lacking self-esteem, urges and desires in a relationship are suppressed because the partner feeling the urge is embarrassed of themselves, etc. Whatever the cause, all long-term interpersonal love relationships (gosh, I sound like a shrink. Okay, so I'm an ex-shrink) seem to go through phases where the supposed heaven of partnership/matrimony/family turns out to be more of the opposite, and where "other options" such as leaving, withdrawal or taking a hiatus may hold great appeal, if only momentarily.

(this image courtesy of www.lasplash.com)

Now, I'm a Christian and as such, I believe that God and I have a personal relationship that is, in some ways, comparable to our human relationships. Maybe I should add that C and I are currently on our summer break (me from uni, C from teaching) and "coming down" from the exertions of working life. This inevitably tends to exacerbate the amount of tension and friction we encounter together. I caught myself fuming over some small disagreement/misunderstanding the other day and thinking "Why, oh why can't you just trust me for once? I've never disappointed you on this one..." And suddenly I was struck by the astounding similarity between what I experience in my relationship with C and the kind of frustration God must feel in His relationship with me sometimes. Quick disclaimer: I am in NO way comparing myself to God here. That's not at all what I mean. What I'm talking about is that almost everyone in a love relationship inevitably hits a point of frustration, of wanting, if only for a second, to throw in the towel and despair of the whole affair. And, looking at my own walk with God, I can see loads and loads of big and little things where I'm pretty darn sure God must be tearing his hair out in frustration at my behaviour. Like when I know something I want to do is wrong and will take me away from God's presence (that's my definition of sin, BTW - something that separates me from God's love), and I go and do it anyway because I want to. Then, after I've screwed up, I'll come complaining and moaning to God at how unhappy I am and how I want for Him to make everything okay again. Only that I've not done my part in sorting things out and instead, want Him to perform some sort of miracle to right my wrongs with no involvement on my side. If there's one thing I believe very firmly, then it is that faith in God does not take away responsibility for my actions. So, I know that the onus for making up is on me, but instead of acting, I'll continue my litany of moans and whimpers and hope that if I keep my eyes closed for long enough, the problem will somehow go away. Can you see where I'm heading? I picture God in reaction to my calls for help, caught between wanting to help me because He loves me very much and wanting to give me a right good kick in the backside for being so benightedly stupid at the same time. Anyway, what I ended up thinking (and this is what I've been trying to get to for the last 2 million or so words) is that maybe one of the reasons our relationships can be so complicated is because they are, to some extent, mirror images of how God feels towards us. On one hand, He desperately wants to be close to us (that's what we were created for according to the Bible - to be relationship partners with God), yet on the other hand, because He loves us so much, He's given us freedom of choice to do whatever we want with our lives. Yes, He does get frustrated, but unlike us He never, never gives up. And while that's one of the things that separates me from God, I also find inspiration to hang in there and exercise patience, maybe even real grace in my personal, human relationships because I know that there's someone who won't ever give up on me no matter how often or how badly I screw up. So, there!